


The Sounds of Home

by flaming_muse



Category: Glee
Genre: Episode Related, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-27
Updated: 2013-11-27
Packaged: 2018-01-02 19:39:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1060795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flaming_muse/pseuds/flaming_muse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blaine’s proud that he’s slowly getting used to the weird sounds of the city around them by his third night here. </p>
<p>set near the end of 5x06 (“Movin’ Out”), with no spoilers beyond</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sounds of Home

There’s a high-pitched, grating groan somewhere in the wall behind Blaine’s head, breaking the hushed cocoon of soft breaths and quiet words they’re enjoying in Kurt’s bed. The noise is awful, like a cross between a giant trash compactor and a banshee.

Blaine doesn’t quite flinch, though his fingers tighten on Kurt’s for just a moment. He’s proud that he’s slowly getting used to the weird sounds of the city around them by his third night here. They still startle him, but they aren’t so jarring as they were when he arrived. His heart only speeds up a little this time.

“What’s that?” he asks Kurt. He’s learned that when he knows what they are he stops having dreams about things like being stuck in a zombie apocalypse thanks to the din created by the trash collectors the other night. He’d like to avoid a repeat of that one, even if Kurt had been really hot wielding that flamethrower.

“Hmm?” Kurt replies, watching in the dim light as he rubs his thumb along the edge of Blaine’s. His eyes are heavy-lidded and dreamy, not at all sleepy but still and calm.

Blaine lets out a soft laugh, half amused and half charmed by Kurt being so wrapped up in him, in them, that he’s not really paying attention. “That sound. What is it?”

“Oh.” Kurt rolls his head on the pillow a little, blinks up to meet his gaze, and gives him a sheepish smile, saying, “I honestly didn’t notice.”

Blaine laughs again, because it was loud and _horrible_ , but he doesn’t argue with him. It’s not that important. At least he can curl around Kurt again if he has another nightmare. Not like he needs the excuse; he’s going to take every opportunity to be close to him he can before he has to go back home, anyway.

They’re lying facing each other on their sides in Kurt’s bed, beneath the covers and in their pajamas, their fingers gently stroking against each other’s on the spot of open mattress between their chests. Kurt’s cold toes are tucked against Blaine’s bare ankles, their knees are overlapping, and their foreheads are just barely not touching. They haven’t had sex yet tonight, haven’t done more than trade a few kisses since they got in bed after a fun night of singing with their friends, but Blaine still feels caught up in a haze of bone-deep contentment, making his body heavy and his heart light.

Getting to share a bed with Kurt is one of the absolute best things about being here visiting him in New York. It’s even better than Blaine could ever have imagined to get to snuggle up around Kurt all night, to touch him and hear the rhythm of his breathing and the quiet, steady beat of his heart, to be warmed and comforted by the heat of his body, to wake with Kurt’s relaxed face so near on the other pillow or pressed against his shoulder from behind. It feels precious. It feels like the start of forever, _their_ forever.

It feels like the hurts in his heart from being without Kurt for so long can heal over for good from having him close, hour after hour, day after day, creating this new life together without anyone else telling them who, how, or where to be. They get to decide everything, and while a lot of big, scary questions remain unanswered they are choosing each other, over and over again.

This quiet, unstructured, _easy_ time is such a gift compared to all of the curfews and dodging of parents they had to worry about in Ohio. They have time just to sit here and touch, to talk in low voices and tease each other with gentle caresses of their fingertips that somehow make Blaine’s skin feel lit up and alive and yet not make him need to push further, not quite yet. His mouth and hands are going to get greedy for more of Kurt, he knows, but this part is so nice, too. It’s almost like a dream, except they aren’t asleep.

That sharp metallic noise sounds again, shattering the bubble of peace around him and making Blaine grit his teeth. “Is a car being ripped apart for scrap next door?”

“Oh, those are the pipes,” Kurt tells him, drawing his long fingers through the channels between Blaine’s in a slow, soft glide that makes the hair on Blaine’s arms stand on end. “Someone upstairs is taking a shower, probably.”

“Those are the _pipes_?”

“Mmm.” Kurt’s toes drift an inch up the back of Blaine’s leg and then back down again, soothing Blaine a little. “That’s nothing. You should hear the heat in the winter.”

“Was that what sounded like a giant rat trying to claw through the walls?” Blaine asks, remembering it from his last visit to see Kurt in New York at Christmas. It had been the least of his worries then, but it sure hadn’t helped him sleep.

“No, that was probably a rat,” Kurt says, rubbing his cheek against the pillow. “The heat sounds like someone’s being tortured while someone else is playing a really out of tune pipe organ with a sledgehammer.”

Blaine laughs and watches Kurt’s eyes crinkle happily in reply. Their knuckles catch in the next glide of their fingers, and Blaine tightens his hold on him for a second or two instead of leaning in for a kiss. He doesn’t want to disturb the serenity of the moment between them, no matter how high his heart is flying. “That sounds horrible.”

“Now you see why we all have white noise machines,” Kurt says, nodding to where his device is whirring away across the room.

“I thought you had them to drown out Rachel singing scales in the shower each morning,” Blaine says.

“ _Nothing_ drowns out Rachel singing scales in the shower each morning.” His gaze not leaving Blaine’s, Kurt’s face shifts through a series of beautiful, abstract, alien shapes as a car goes by, its lights twisting through the panes of foggy glass and illuminating the room in flickering stripes before it has passed.

Blaine smooths his thumb along Kurt’s and then draws his fingertips over his palm, mapping out his slender fingers and the lines edged in his skin. Kurt’s breath stutters, his mouth dropping open in a soft inhalation, and he watches Blaine touch him with rapt eyes. Blaine can’t quite make out their color in the dim light, but they’re bright and peaceful, full of love.

Kurt’s perfect, Blaine thinks as his heart somehow fills that much more. Perfect to look at, perfect to touch, absolutely perfect to love, someone who can see into Blaine and still want him and care for him, and Blaine’s own breath comes faster in his throat to be so near, so wrapped up in him.

“Blaine,” Kurt says softly, smiling around his name, his voice a little vague in a way that makes Blaine’s heart jump, because he knows it means Kurt’s body is warming just from such a simple touch the same way his is.

There’s a squeal of laughter from elsewhere in the apartment; Blaine can hear Santana for sure but isn’t certain who is with her. Kurt’s eyes flicker away toward the curtain and then back again.

“I hope you didn’t want any of those brownies to take on the trip home,” Kurt says wryly. “I bet Santana’s finishing them off right now. She’s a night eater. One morning I woke up and she’d polished off three-quarters a blueberry pie overnight. She swore up and down it wasn’t her, but I took pictures of the berry stains on her fingers. I’m hoarding them for future blackmail purposes.”

“You learn a lot about people when you live with them,” Blaine replies, a little distracted as he circles his thumb down to rest over the delicate pulse point in Kurt’s wrist and feels the skip-leap of his heartbeat beneath the skin.

He’s learned a lot about Kurt just from this trip: how he sings to himself while making breakfast, how the first thing he does when he stands up in the morning is stretch his arms high into the air and twist until his back cracks, how he takes an extra second to make sure the pillows are just so before he leaves the room after he makes the bed, how he adds extra butter to the popcorn when Rachel isn’t looking, how he always puts a dollar from his tips in his pocket for the homeless woman who usually sits at the end of the block. They’re all wonderful bits of information for him to add to the picture in his heart that is Kurt. Kurt may know him, but Blaine knows Kurt, too.

“Mmm,” Kurt agrees.

His eyelids are slowly drooping, but Blaine knows with a simmering sense of satisfaction that it isn’t from fatigue at all. It’s from Blaine’s touch. He _knows_ it and loves it. He loves that Kurt is so open to him. He loves that they can be together like this and have it be so simple, so easy, enjoying talking and touching as much as what will come later.

There’s another horrible metallic screech from above, and Blaine jerks in surprise, dropping Kurt’s hand. “Pipes,” he says with an embarrassed laugh.

“Not this time,” Kurt says, linking their fingers together again. His toes drift upwards, slipping under the hem of Blaine’s pajama pants and sliding up his calf. “Wait for it.”

The touch makes Blaine shiver and lose focus, and he doesn’t realize Kurt means for him to wait for something that _isn’t_ Kurt caressing him until there’s a huge, resonating peal of thunder echoing overhead. Blaine flails under the covers and looks over his shoulder at the window with alarm. “What the - ?” he says, because it isn’t even _raining_.

Kurt laughs and curls his fingers around Blaine’s hand, drawing his attention back to him. “The people upstairs are dog-sitting again,” he says, grinning as Blaine fights to regain the sense of serenity he’d been enjoying. “I saw them leave earlier.”

There’s another roar of thunder; this time Blaine can hear that they’re actually footsteps. Lots of really loud footsteps. “Are you sure they aren’t elephant-sitting?” he asks, slowly lying down flat again.

“They’re _chihuahuas_ , if you can believe it. Four of them.” Kurt draws Blaine’s hand closer, holding it to his heart. Blaine can feel the solid press of muscle against his fingers, the heat of Kurt’s body, and the skittering beat of his heart, and he really wishes he weren’t quite so distracted by the sounds above them so he could enjoy the touch more.

Blaine glances up at the ceiling. “Wow, they’re loud.”

“You get used to it,” Kurt tells him with a shrug. “The acoustics are incredible in this building, and they’re definitely getting the better end of the deal. We get their dogs, and they get future Broadway legends performing for free.”

Blaine smiles a little, his heart lifting right into his throat, because if going to bed with Kurt is probably the best part of each day on this visit, getting to sing with him is a close second place.

He hadn’t anticipated the horrible smell of the trash chute, how fundamentally unsettling it is that there aren’t adults here between him and the outside world the way he’s used to at home, or the way he feels like everything is too fast or too hard and the only sure thing is Kurt, but the singing together and the time alone, _those_ have been a part of his fantasies for years. And here he is. Here they are. Well, almost.

It’s hard to believe that it’s so normal for Kurt, though, that he’s used to the din of everything around him now. Blaine is used to the murmur of his dad watching TV at night or the soft sound of his mother singing as she cleans up the kitchen. He’s used to lawnmowers and dogs barking from far away. He’s used to quiet nights, orderly lines, and midwestern smiles, not millions of people pushing or ignoring each other, fighting for their futures while all crammed together in one dirty city that feels both huge and claustrophobic all at once.

Kurt’s voice is soothing and right, but so little else is here. The city definitely doesn’t sound like home, not yet.

The small herd of dogs thunders past overhead again. It’s so blatantly rude to the other people in the building. The white noise machine does nothing to disguise it.

Blaine can tell with that sinking feeling in his stomach again that New York is going to take a lot of getting used to. He wants to be here, he wants to be with Kurt, but it still makes him uneasy and unsure that he’ll be able to make it his home the way he wants to, the way Kurt has. It feels so foreign.

“You seem worried,” Kurt says quietly, watching him.

“I’m okay,” Blaine replies and tries to paste on a smile. He _is_ okay. He’s lying curled up with his gorgeous fiancé in a comfortable bed in a darkened room. When he looks at it that way, he’s _great_.

“Blaine.” There’s no judgment in Kurt’s voice, but he’s clearly not letting him get away with a pat answer.

Blaine breathes out and makes himself explain. “I think it’s hitting home than I’m really going to live here. Whatever happens, wherever I get into college, it’s going to be _here_. I’m going to live in this city.” The furrow between Kurt’s brows deepens, and Blaine hurries to reassure him. “I want to. I do. It’s just a lot.”

Kurt’s so very calm when he asks, “You don’t like it?”

“I do. Kurt, it’s _New York_.” Blaine can’t find the words for how much he loves the bustle, the wide variety of opportunities, and the promise of what he can accomplish and yet how much he realizes it all terrifies him now that Kurt has made him admit he’s actually scared. “It’s so exciting, and you’re here. Of course I love it. But I guess it’s not _mine_ yet, not the way it’s yours. It’s still really... different from home.”

Kurt’s mouth relaxes somehow, his eyes warming. “It takes time to adjust,” he says. “I remember sitting in this apartment while Rachel was in class, before I got my internship, and listening to the neighbors argue and trying to memorize subway maps and wondering when it was all going to feel like my life instead of a big adventure. But it does now. It will for you, too.”

“I know,” Blaine replies, because he trusts Kurt and knows it will happen. It just hasn’t yet, he doesn’t live here yet, and the city feels like a borrowed coat on his shoulders instead of his own.

“And you have an advantage I didn’t,” Kurt adds, petting through the hair at the nape of Blaine’s neck before adjusting the collar of Blaine’s pajama shirt. “You have me.”

“I do have you,” Blaine says with something like relief. That makes all the difference. As much as it feels like he’s striking out on his own in this alien new place, Kurt will actually be his compass and his guide, a constant in the craziness around them. Kurt will call him on it when he’s doing things wrong, just like he always has, and Blaine knows he’s going to do things wrong. And the stakes for failing are going to be so much bigger when he does.

Kurt’s smile comes back to life. “And I’ll make sure you won’t make some of the same mistakes I did. They aren’t all worth repeating. Rachel and I have already gotten food poisoning from the hotdog vendor in the park, so we’ll let you skip that one.”

“Well, thank you,” Blaine laughs, surprise pulling him out of his worries. Kurt grins back, and they watch each other from a few inches away for a warm, open moment that spins out longer and longer. They stare into each other’s eyes, link their hands, and breathe together as the world closes in around them. Humor drains away to be replaced with something weightier and more connected.

“It’ll be okay,” Kurt promises him.

“I know.” Blaine does, he realizes. He trusts in them if nothing else, and if they’re okay then everything else is going to follow. He knows it.

His breath coming faster, Blaine lifts Kurt’s hand to his lips and kisses the backs of his fingers, then the swell of his thumb, then the tender center of the palm of his hand. Another car goes by, maybe a few, and Kurt’s face twirls in a kaleidoscope of planes and angles, but his eyes stay steady on Blaine’s.

“This has been a good trip,” Kurt says to him, his voice soft and just for him. “And not just because your NYADA audition went well, like I knew it would. It’s been good for _us_.”

Blaine kisses Kurt’s palm again and watches Kurt’s eyelids droop at the touch. “It has,” he agrees. New York and the future make him feel like a scared kid when he thinks about them too much, but this part, the part with Kurt, has been wonderful. It’s everything he needs. The rest he can figure out.

And he doesn’t have to figure it out alone. They’re in this together.

Something in his chest relaxing at that thought, Blaine kisses Kurt’s fingers once more. “I’m sorry I have to go.” He’ll be glad to get back to Lima, really, and feel the security of home and McKinley just a little while longer, but he’ll be even happier to come back here for good.

He might not belong to New York yet, but he definitely belongs to Kurt.

“Well,” Kurt says, pulling him closer by the hand that’s holding Kurt’s wrist. Kurt slides across the few inches separating them and fits himself into Blaine’s space as Blaine happily drapes his arm over Kurt’s side and feels his body warm from being pressed up against him. Kurt’s eyebrows lift as his smile goes knowing. “You don’t have to go yet.”

With a grin, Blaine leans in to give him a soft kiss, his eyes drifting shut the second Kurt’s fingers find their way into his hair. He runs his hand up Kurt’s back, rumpling the soft sleep shirt he’s wearing, and edges in that much closer. “Not yet,” he murmurs against Kurt’s lips.

Kurt’s solid, strong, and impossibly appealing against him, and when Blaine opens his eyes he’s blinded for a moment at how full of love Kurt’s smile is even as he’s chasing Blaine’s mouth for more.

“And you’ll come back,” Kurt tells him, stroking his fingers through Blaine’s hair and running his knee up the outside of Blaine’s leg. Blaine palms his slim waist and slides his hand up his ribs. He’s so warm, so close, so touchable in his soft pajamas. He’s so _Blaine’s_. “To visit and then for good.”

“I will,” Blaine says, curling his fingers in Kurt’s shirt. “I promise.” It doesn’t matter that it’s frightening. This is where his future is. This is where Kurt is. He wouldn’t miss it for the world.

“I know,” Kurt says simply and watches Blaine’s face without any doubt as Blaine’s heart soars to be so known and trusted in return.

Blaine held a candle for their future for a long time while they were broken up, but they’re both carrying it again now, this love that burns bright and sure between them. And Blaine can’t think of anyone better to believe in their life together than Kurt, who somehow makes things happen just by wanting it enough. And he wants Blaine. He wants _them_ , and he believes they’re going to be successful and happy. Which means that they are.

“I love you,” Blaine says and kisses him again, harder and deeper, overwhelmed with gratitude, kisses him and touches him and pushes him back against the mattress to get that much closer.

There’s a screech again somewhere in the building, a door or a pipe or maybe a zombie breaking free, but even if Blaine’s hair rises on his neck at the sound he doesn’t let it stop him. He focuses on Kurt, because that’s what matters. That’s what he _knows_ he wants, the most important thing in this crazy city he doesn’t quite understand yet.

Kurt laughs softly as Blaine impatiently skims Kurt’s shirt up his sides and over his head, then drops back against the mattress in a soft thump, his hands returning to Blaine’s face, urging him into another kiss.

Blaine happily, heatedly obliges him, taking with pleasure everything Kurt has to offer him.

The sound of raised voices comes from outside of Kurt’s room, something about a chore chart and a clogged shower drain but Kurt stops him before he can ask if they should intervene with a hand on Blaine’s face and an insistent, “The curtain’s closed for the night. We’re occupied. Take off your clothes and let them yell.”

Blaine hesitates, but only for a second. His instincts insist that the whole reason to live with friends is to help each other work things out.

But Kurt’s sure, he’s the one who lives here and who deals with this kind of conflict every day, and - most importantly - he’s well on his way to being naked beneath him.

With a shake of his head at the twisting bit of guilt in his stomach and at the idea of having sex with a soundtrack not of a playlist of carefully chosen love songs but of real life fighting, Blaine sits back to unbutton his pajama top as Kurt gives him an approving smile and shimmies gracefully out of his sleep pants.

“God,” Blaine whispers as all of that skin is bared before him, and he sinks back on top of him with something like relief. This, he understands. This is where he fits. This is where he belongs most of all.

Lights flicker around them as a police car passes beyond the windows, casting Kurt’s pale skin into a patchwork pattern of darkness and colored light. It makes him as hard to capture as quicksilver compared to the long, slow explorations of his body Blaine used to enjoy in the steady lamplight of his bedroom, but he’s no less beautiful in slivers of brightness, and his mouth is as real as ever when it finds Blaine’s.

Rachel yells something Blaine doesn’t really listen to from the other room, despite the high volume and strident tones of her voice.

Instead he maps out Kurt’s body with hands that shouldn’t be so greedy after a few days together but still _are_. He kisses him with a fervor and gratitude he doesn’t ever want to lose. His blood flashes hot through his veins at how easily Kurt lets himself be moved, lets Blaine slide over him, lets Blaine into the circle of his arms where it’s safe and all makes sense.

The city around them might be complicated and loud, fast-paced and uncaring - nothing at all like he’s used to, nothing he knows how to feel settled in, not yet - but this part is so easy.

This part’s only for them.

“Kurt - “ Blaine starts against Kurt’s mouth, almost a moan, as Kurt turns them over, bracketing him against the mattress and taking away Blaine’s ability to see anything but him.

“Shh, they’ll hear,” Kurt reminds him, soothing and eager all at once, and kisses them both quiet as they shut out the apartment and the building and the city clattering on around them and focus only on each other.

**Author's Note:**

> Reminder: I live my fandom life spoiler-free! Please don't spoil me for anything coming ahead! :)


End file.
